


Losing Control Under The Mistletoe

by K_Fiction_Therapy



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: AU, Anal, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Christmas, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Smut, Doggy Style, EXO - Freeform, Erotica, Exhibitionism, Fanfiction, Fic, Fiction, Gen, Holidays, K-Pop - Freeform, K-pop References, Loss of Control, Merry Christmas, Mistletoe, NSFW, One Shot, Orgasm, Sex, Smut, Vaginal Sex, adult, explicit - Freeform, happy holidays, kpop, surprise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 11:16:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17283017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/K_Fiction_Therapy/pseuds/K_Fiction_Therapy





	Losing Control Under The Mistletoe

If you were honest with yourself, holidays had never been your thing. Growing up, you were always roped into family Christmas, where you would find yourself hiding from the awkward, embarrassing family photos while scarfing down some ridiculously fattening foods that you would hate yourself for consuming for most of the next year. It wasn’t that the holidays were abysmal, but rather in the past you hadn’t really had anything to celebrate—that was, until you met him; and he was coming home. Today.  
Your fingers pushed through your hair slowly, making sure you didn’t do anything to disturb the coif you had created. You wanted everything to look just right for him, and you stood there awkwardly by the window, trying to do a pose that was both sexy and inviting; hoping that when he walked in, his eyes would find you alluring—the best present, right in front of him. You put a hand on your hip, cocking it to the side, your head back slightly, attempting the sexiest expression you could muster, your lips pouting a bit and eyes half-lidded. Ankles crossed, you nearly tripped, managing to keep yourself upright just in time for the door to open.   
Slowly it opened up, and with the cool air that filled the area, so did Yixing Zhang, his smile brighter than a thousand candles, and eyes bright with intrigue as they found you. It had been so long since you had seen him, and he looked as handsome as ever—and as the tingle of his presence crawled up the length of your spine, you felt all the love you had for him flood you, taking you over and keeping you held. He approached you, and your knees felt weaker than they ever had. It was true that the promotions in China had kept him from you, but now he was here, and you’d be damned if you didn’t make the most of it.   
“Y/N…You look so good. So sexy.” He tried in English, opening his arms to you, “Come here.”   
The blush that overtook you warmed your face, dancing up to the apples of your cheeks, making your smile widen. You couldn’t keep yourself from him, and you didn’t want to, moving into his arms almost immediately—and as he wrapped them around you, you knew there was nowhere you’d rather be. His nose ran against your ear and you shivered, fingers gripping at his collar a moment, arousal pricking at you even at such a subtle expression of affection.   
Pulling back slightly, you would lift a hand, pointing up at a mistletoe that hang overhead. Not privy to all traditions, but understanding the sight was something that happened during Christmas time, he would tip his head and blink.   
“—Jingle Bells?” He asked cutely, the curl of his lips causing his dimples to show—bringing more light to his face. How those curls framed his gorgeous features, making your heart beat a little faster. You couldn’t help but chuckle sweetly. Yixing knew it was not the right term, and he wouldn’t wait for you to shake your head to confirm it before asking, “What is it?” His English was so fucking cute, you found yourself hanging on every syllable.   
“It’s mistletoe.” You began, swaying a bit with him, his eyes glued to the red and green display above you, “…You hang it in doorways, windows and archways…and people who end up beneath it are supposed to kiss…”  
He took a moment to look at you, smiling mischievously, “So, we should kiss, then?” Yixing asked, biting his lip as he let his gaze flick to your tiers, eyeing them a moment.  
“Yeah, it’s tradition.” You said back, that blush refusing to leave you, especially when those eyes were on you like that.   
Barely a breath was passed between the two of you before his hands pressed to your cheeks, pulling you in, your lips crashing against one another in a deep, passionate kiss. The world around you seemed to slow and stop entirely, his lips taking you fully, making you almost dizzy with adoration. Slowly, he would pull back, looking into your eyes, his own having changed from nearly childish happiness to a darker, more predatory expression.   
After a moment, he pressed to you again, kissing you once more, your lips remaining locked as he dropped his hands, working open his pants easily, his hand dropping to bring yours forward, pressing it to the soft black hair at his groin before sliding it beneath, your fingertips meeting hot, needy flesh, throbbing densely. Apparently, he had missed you just as badly as you had missed him. You couldn’t help but gasp against his lips when you felt how hard he was, and he smiled into your next kiss, rolling those dexterous hips forward against your hand, biting your lip densely.   
Riled as he was, Yixing wasted no time in forcing his lips against your jaw, dragging them to your neck, covering your pulse-point in lavish affection. Nipping at your neck had you moaning submissively, and Yixing couldn’t take it anymore, needing to have you right there. Pulling your hand from his pants, he would force your bottoms down and turn you, shoving you over the table in front of you, your face pressed to the frosted, cold glass of the window.   
Breath making clouds of fog over the transparent surface, you found yourself held down, Yixing’s feet forcing yours apart, spreading you wide, presenting your backside to him. Licking his lips, Yixing pulled himself free of his pants fully, and as he throbbed heavily in the air of the room, he would run his cock against your heated flesh, allowing you to feel the size before he pushed the thickened head into your quivering depths.   
Gasping loudly, your eyes would roll back into your head, thighs shaking as he pushed in deeper, inch after inch of his girth disappearing inside of you. When he was hilted, he would remain still for a long moment, letting you feel every throb his cock made, every second making you desperate for him to move, your toes pointing to arch your hips higher, begging.   
Smirking, Yixing would slowly pull his hips back before slamming them into you again, “Ah, you’re so beautiful, Y/N. Just like this…”. Around you festive plates and platters of cookies fell to the ground, knocked by the movement of the table you were bent over. Again, he thrust into you, and again you moaned, this time louder, the condensation from your breath causing small droplets to form on the window, the color of Christmas lights outside blurring around your face, straying off in rays of light, illuminating your skin.   
His thrusts met your ass in hard, quick gestures, “Fuck, you feel so good…”. The snapping of his hips sending his cock deep into you with each movement. You found it hard to control the volume of your moans, and as you spiraled into pleasure, he growled, a hand trekking up your back to grasp your hair, forcing your face harder against the window as he fucked you. His natural kind, gentle demeanor had begun to fade away, and the more he lost control, the harder he slammed himself into you, thrusts going ravenous.   
Yixing was close already, but he wouldn’t allow himself to cum until you did, working his hips in circular motions against your sensitive nerves, making you convulse in moments. You were so close you could taste it, and you shook bodily in anticipation, “Just like that! Ah, Yixing! H-harder!” You moaned, tensing hard as you found yourself prey to the intense pleasure he was giving you, “A-ah! C-cumming!! FUCK—ah, fuck! Ahhh!” You cried out, your hips snapping upward as your muscles gave way to hard, milking pulses, clamping down around his cock, coaxing him to empty himself into you—and he couldn’t hold back any longer.   
“Ah—Xìngjiāo!“ He shouted, coming undone in a flurry of masculine sounds, his face gorgeously contorting, reflected in the glass of the window. Jerking his hips forward, hilting into your depths and stilling, his cock pulsed hard, sending thick ropes of cum spurting deep inside of you, coating your walls and filling you full. Eyes closed, Yixing felt himself shake as wave after wave of pleasure took him over, his length still very much hard, and tensed, pressing against your innermost pressure points. He felt so good like this, you never wanted it to end.   
Doubling over, Yixing leaned over you, panting lightly against your ear as he kissed along your earlobe from behind, keeping his lips against he shell as he spoke gently, finding it easier to speak English after having orgasmed, “Is it tradition to fuck beneath it also?”   
You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at his words, spent and glowing with orgasmic warmth in the moonlight peeking through the window, “…It is now. Damn.”


End file.
